It's been a funky couple of days. Yesterday, I was uncannily composed. I wanted to be there for my mom and I wanted to make sure the things that needed to be done yesterday were taken care of. I felt the sad lurking, but only shed a tear or two as I went throughout the day, surrounded by prayers and people I love. This lasted for hours and hours and hours.
Until I crawled into bed well after midnight, exhausted and weary (are those the same thing? Too tired to remember) and felt this bubble rise up from my chest and with it came deep, hiccuppy sobs of grief and sadness. It suddenly occurred to me that my Grandfather was gone.
I suppose I'll never really know on this earth if he's waiting for me in heaven, but I take peace in the fact that God is a very fair God, that He loves my grandpa even more than I do, and that Gramps was given every fair chance imaginable. My grandfather stopped struggling a few days ago, the furrowed brow and the fist shaking stopped, and he looked at peace Saturday night when I last saw him. I am taking that as a sign that he finally reconciled whatever he needed to do and that now he is hanging with Jesus. That makes me happy.
Right now, I keep finding myself feeling deep grief for maybe the very first time in my life. Tears keep welling up inside, and I feel like I'm having an everlasting asthma attack. Then, I'm fine. I keep smiling when I remember the cool things about this man who gladly stepped in as a father for my mom and then stepped up to be my father figure when he was needed for that role. I want to tell you all those stories, but when I go to write them down I feel sad and incapable of finding any words. When I busy myself with the next thing the sad goes away. Today in his apartment, I kept thinking I wanted to ask Grandpa about something and when I'd realize he wasn't coming, I'd get all funky again. In and out. Up and down. Sad and less sad. This is an altogether unfamiliar feeling to me and I feel like I'm just riding the waves, unable to control where I go next, but trusting that God understands mourning and will pull me out before I go in over my head. I feel peace and comfort and love within the grief and I wonder how people do this without Jesus.
I'm trying to set my self to writing his obituary, but I think first I need to just let my heart settle a little more. For now, I think I'll just share with you a couple of the treasures I found among his things this morning:
Thank you all for your prayers. God's such an amazing Comforter. I can ask for no more.
All praise to God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. God is our merciful Father and the source of all comfort. He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
2 Cor 1:3-4